


all of the while (all of the while it was you)

by green_tea31



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Fluff and Angst, Idiots in Love, M/M, Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-11
Updated: 2020-03-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:22:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22214746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/green_tea31/pseuds/green_tea31
Summary: Bozer leaves and Mac begins his daily procedure of closing up. He’s busy putting glasses back into their respective places when the bell alerts him to a late customer. He turns around and nearly lets a glass slip from his hands when he finds himself falling into the whiskey-brown eyes of a stranger, looking at Mac’s flabbergasted expression with patient amusement.“You alright there, buddy?” The stranger asks, and Mac clears his throat, desperately trying to swallow down the embarrassment of having been caught off-guard by the man who isn’t even close to what he normally looks for in guys, but something about that easy slouch and warm grin presses every button Mac didn’t even know he had until right now.(Mac owns a coffee shop. Jack has an agenda. Otherwise known as an exercise in miscommunication.)
Relationships: Jack Dalton/Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016), Riley Davis/Desiree "Desi" Nguyen
Comments: 37
Kudos: 73





	1. monday

**Author's Note:**

> This has been sitting on my harddrive for a few months now and I'm putting it out there because I finally know where it's going. It won't be very long, but please note the rating, because there will be smut at some point. If you're reading that werewolf AU I posted a while back, the next chapter is halfway done. Fingers crossed I manage to beat the rest into submission over the next week, it will probably be posted next Saturday or Sunday.
> 
> Still busy at uni, so updates won't be frequent, but my thesis is done and I actually have time to write again. Yay me.
> 
> As always, self-betaed. All mistakes are my own.
> 
> Title from "Falling In Love At A Coffee Shop" by Landon Pigg, because that song was kind of made for this fic.

“You want me to do what?” Jack asks incredulously. “With all due respect Mr Oversight, sir, but that sounds more than just a little bit stupid,” he adds, ignoring Matty emphatically shaking her head from where she’s standing next to their mutual boss.

Oversight, real name redacted, just sighs, more than used to Jack’s tendency to be as blunt as possible by now, and falls back into his chair, looking resigned.

“Look, Dalton. I know this is…unusual.” Jack snorts, but a look from the man is enough to silence him. “Angus MacGyver spent three years with the DXS until he resigned after the previous director turned out to be a double agent. I’m not asking you to try and get him back permanently, just for this op. Our contact in question asked for him specifically, and with the information the man is willing to provide, I’m not risking showing up without Angus MacGyver.”

Jack knows all this, has been listening to Oversight’s spiel for half an hour, he just isn’t quite sure what that whole mess has to do with him of all people. This isn’t even his op, why the hell is he being sent to retrieve this wunderkind?

“So let me get this straight. Of all the people working for you, you chose me to approach this former operative who made it more than clear that the Foundation can go screw itself. Why? Because of my sparkling wit and personality? I mean – have you met me?”

Oversight throws a glance at Matty. Jack knows he’s good at undercover work – used to be his speciality back in the day, but he doubts that either Matty or Oversight want him to dazzle this kid with one of his various cover identities. They need him to want to work with them after all.

Matty takes a step closer and sighs. There’s something in her eyes that’s almost pity, not quite sorrow, and Jack has no idea how to interpret that at all.

“Jack…MacGyver knows nearly all of our operatives, and before you protest that that isn’t possible, Jim wasn’t kidding when he told you that the man is a genius. I assure you – he _does_ remember them. You’re the only operative we hired in the last few years that we…that I trust enough to do this.”

Ignoring the glare Oversight sends Matty as she lets his name slip, though Jack doubts it was an accident, he files the information away for later. In this business it’s always good to know as much as possible about the people who can potentially order you to your death.

“I understand that he knows you because you were hired for cleanup after Thornton’s betrayal,” Jack says grumpily, “but why the hell can’t _he_ go if this is so goddamn important?” He looks at Oversight and catches a glimpse of a barely restrained wince in the other man’s eyes.

_Interesting_.

“Let’s just say that wouldn’t exactly endear us to him,” his boss says, throwing Matty one of those indecipherable glances that means they’ve worked together for long enough to communicate without words, and looks back at Jack.

“You’ve been doing this job for long enough, Dalton. Don’t tell me you can’t get this man to do what you want by the time our contact will be ready to meet with him?”

Jack knows what Oversight is doing, trying to appeal to his pride, but he’s been trained by the best to ignore any pride he has if necessary to accomplish the mission’s objective. Apparently, the shadowy head of the Phoenix Foundation is just as prone to fall for Jack’s loud-mouthed knuckle-dragger shtick as every other supervisor he’s ever had. Matty glares at him, and he concedes with a sigh. She’s always been able to see through him better than most, and Jack doubts he’ll get out of this assignment anyway.

“All right then. A week you say?” Oversight nods and Matty looks relieved. Jack would feel guilty for dragging this out for so long, but they’re about to send him on one of the weirdest assignments he’s ever been on, and that’s really saying something.

He picks up the file and looks at the picture of a pretty blond, blue eyed _boy_ , standing in front of a building where he’s spent the last few years selling overprized coffee and snacks to strangers in the independent coffee shop he apparently acquired after quitting his exciting life as a spy.

Because of- _fucking_ -course this is Jack’s life now.

…

Mac pauses while writing down the menu for the Tuesday morning rush and throws a surreptitious glance at the register, where Riley is busy being politely passive aggressive at a customer who spent nearly his entire time in the shop complaining about one thing or another. A few months ago, he would have gone over and made sure Riley didn’t land herself right back in prison for murdering the guy, but they’ve all come a long way since then.

Riley closes the register and hands over the guy’s change, he doesn’t leave a tip, and, oh yeah, the guy has it coming. Mac pays very well, but the customer can’t actually know that, so he’s apparently just an asshole.

Riley glowers after him when he leaves and Bozer comes to the front, leaning against the counter next to her. “I gotta say, Riley. The way you handled that, man. That was a thing of beauty, Miss Davis. I think he just about wet himself under your glare,” Bozer says while Riley hangs up her apron and shoots them a wicked grin.

Mac snickers, cursing when he accidentally brushes against the freshly written special of the day with his arm and gets chalk dust all over his shirt. He looks up from trying to brush off the white powder, and finds himself pinned down under the disbelieving stares of his two favourite employees.

“What?” he asks defensively.

Riley snorts. “Aren’t you supposed to be a genius? I’m pretty sure Boze said you were a genius.” She turns to Bozer who sports the long-suffering expression that all of Mac’s friends acquire sooner or later.

”Doesn’t always transfer to real life,” he says, shrugging. “That’s what he’s got us for. He’s the boss and we make sure he doesn’t blow up the fancy espresso machine.”

Mac rolls his eyes. “That was _one_ time, Boze. And that thing makes a lot more than just espresso.” He throws a pointed glance at the towering monster, gleaming in all its chrome-plated glory from its place of honour and sighs a little sheepishly.

Bozer grins. “One time is one time too many my friend. Bertha wasn’t made to withstand your genius. That’s why you’re not allowed to touch her anymore when you’re not making coffee for the customers.”

Riley shakes her head in a clearly exaggerated display of despair and grabs her backpack. “I gotta go, guys. Promised my mum I’d call her tonight.” She drops a kiss to Mac’s cheek and waves at Bozer before leaving with a spring in her step. Mac smiles softly. When he’d first hired her, she’d been a tightly wound up ball of anger and mistrust, freshly out on probation. It had taken Bozer and him months to get a smile out of her, let alone a genuine laugh. These days, he couldn’t even imagine what life had been like before her, his little sister in all but name.

Mac turns back to the menu board and carefully fixes his mistake, then takes a step back to take in the result. His handwriting is still reminiscent of the college student he’d been once, the careful, precise letters of a budding engineer, but time and habit has given it a slant that makes it look more adult than not – or so he likes to tell himself.

“There’s an awful lot of poppy seed on there,” Bozer says, suddenly appearing behind Mac. He barely manages not to jump, and only the fact that he’d quit his job as a spy years ago, keeps Mac from chastising himself for letting his friend surprise him like that.

“I like poppy seed,” Mac says, defensively. He looks at the board with the options for the Tuesday morning rush again and silently concedes the point. Of the six available options, four contain poppy seed. Still, he’s had no complains so far, so he’s sticking to it.

“Well…I do love your poppy seed and lemon cupcakes, so not complaining.” Bozer grins. “Sooo, now that we’re closing up, I’m gonna head home, too. What do you want for dinner?” He asks, but Mac just shrugs.

“Surprise me. I’ll bring the dessert.” It’s become a tradition of sorts, ever since Mac bought the shop and hired his best friend as his first employee. Mac closes up and Bozer prepares dinner. It’s a comfortable routine that’s done a lot to help Mac stabilize himself after he first quit the DXS. He’d had enough money then, to live comfortably for a while, but Mac had never done well being idle for too long. Nightmares and an overdeveloped sense of paranoia, both gifts of his former job that kept on giving, had nearly driven him to isolate himself from everyone around him, and only Bozer’s intervention in form of dragging him out of bed, and into a car, to visit his best friend’s family for as long as it took him to get back on his feet, had ultimately helped him to find a new direction.

Bozer leaves and Mac begins his daily procedure of closing up. He’s busy putting glasses back into their respective places when the bell alerts him to a late customer. He turns around and nearly lets a glass slip from his hands when he finds himself falling into the whiskey-brown eyes of a stranger, looking at Mac’s flabbergasted expression with patient amusement.

“You alright there, buddy?” The stranger asks, and Mac clears his throat, desperately trying to swallow down the embarrassment of having been caught off-guard by the man who isn’t even close to what he normally looks for in guys, but something about that easy slouch and warm grin presses every button Mac didn’t even know he had until right now.

“I’m…I’m good. Sorry, it’s been a long day.” He puts the glass away and steps up to the counter. “How can I help you?” Mac asks with what he hopes is his most professional smile. The stranger frowns and looks at the menu board.

“Uh…I’d like a piece of that caramel apple tart and a coffee, black.” He fidgets a little with the stack of printed menus next to the register while Mac gets his order ready. There’s an unasked question in the guy’s eyes and he’s vibrating with a strange sort of tension that puts Mac on edge.

“You know…,” the guy says, before stopping with a grimace. Mac places a cup under the drip and lets the machine do its work, turning around to look at his customer questioningly.

“Damn strangest name for a coffee shop. How’d you come up with that?”

Mac blinks, confused, because he’s pretty sure that’s not what the other man had wanted to say originally, but he runs with it. It’s not the first time he’s been asked that exact same question after all.

“My best friend did, actually. I couldn’t think of anything to name the shop, but I’ve always had a habit of using them to distract myself.” He points at a nearly invisible piece of fishing line, strung up over the counter, hosting a myriad of the paperclip figures he’s made over the years.

“Quite the collection you’ve got there. I’m guessing you’re Mac then?”

“Wouldn’t be called “Mac’s Paperclip” otherwise, wouldn’t it?” He retrieves the second to last piece of tart and puts it down in front of the guy along with his coffee. The man has apparently elected to stay seated at the bar-like front instead of choosing a table, and Mac finds himself watching intently as he takes his first bite.

It’s not like he wants to impress this customer, he simply doesn’t have anything better to do (that’s a lie).

“Holy…did _you_ bake this?” The guy asks almost disbelievingly. He doesn’t wait for Mac’s answer, but scoops up another bite quickly. The look of unadulterated bliss on his face is almost more than Mac can take.

“I take it you like the tart?” Mac asks, throat dry.

“Like it? Buddy, right now I’m trying very hard not to propose. Don’t tell my ma, but this might be the best apple tart I’ve ever had.”

Mac swallows heavily and ignores the hope trying to rise in his chest. Just because the guy mentioned proposing doesn’t mean he’s into guys, right? It’s just an expression. People use it all the time, dammit, and Mac is going to stop lusting after his customer right now.

“I’m glad,” Mac says, smiling helplessly. He’s pretty sure he’s blushing something fierce right now, but at least he’s got the excuse of just having been complimented.

The guy looks at him questioningly. “You cook like this, too?”

“Ah…no. Actually, according to my friends I’m a bit of a hazard in front of a stove.” He shrugs, a little embarrassed, because no matter how much coaching Bozer did, the most Mac ever managed in the kitchen was cooking a pot of noodles, and even then Riley complained that they weren’t “al dente” enough. The methodical approach of baking suits him, with its almost chemistry-like characteristics, but he’s never quite managed to transfer his ability to improvise from the field into the kitchen.

“Can’t quite imagine, but I take your word for it.” His customer swallows down the last bite and puts down his fork. “I’m Jack by the way.”

Mac blinks, not sure why he’s just been offered that information, but the guy seems to be able to read his thoughts. “Figured I should introduce myself, seeing as I know your name but you’ve got no idea who the nosy guy asking all those questions is.”

Jack grins a self-deprecating grin, slightly crooked, but all the more honest for it. “Sooo, tell me Mac – how does a guy like you end up in a place like this – wait.” He frowns and shakes his head. “That sounds kinda sleezy, doesn’t it?”

“Don’t worry,” Mac says, trying very hard not to stare at the way Jack’s eyes crinkle when he smiles. “I think I know what you meant.” He leans against the counter, crossing his arms and contemplates how much he’s willing to share with this man, who is really still a stranger, but Mac’s always worn his heart on his sleeve, so he takes a deep breath and dives right in.

“I used to work for a think tank here in LA. Started right after coming back from Afghanistan.” He looks up and waits for Jack’s reaction. Most people never quite want to believe him when he tells them about the Army, like being a reasonably attractive, blue-eyed twenty something somehow precludes him from having been a soldier. Jack, however, just smiles encouragingly, so Mac continues.

“There was…let’s just say I had some differences with my boss. She got fired but…,” he trails off because the last part of that story is still too painful to even think about some days, and now he’s actually contemplating telling this man, this stranger…

_Not a stranger, not really. They may have just met, but Mac feels like he’s known Jack for much longer than that, feels almost safe under that warm gaze, like he could drown in those eyes, willingly, and never come up again._

“You don’t have to tell me, Mac. Not if you don’t want to,” Jack says, voice heavy with some unnamed emotion. Mac shoots him a quick grin, meant to be reassuring, but, judging by the sympathetic expression on the other man’s face, it’s more of a grimace. He _wants_ to tell Jack, is the thing, wants to throw every bit of caution in the wind and tell him how the father he’d thought abandoned him stepped back into Mac’s life after Patty’s betrayal, and tried to convince him that everything he’d done had been for Mac’s sake, that _leaving_ had been for Mac’s sake.

He’s still so incredibly angry about that, he can’t breathe sometimes. But Mac hadn’t just been the DXS’s best operative because he could improvise in the field. It’s one thing to tell Jack about the name of his shop, it’s an entirely different thing to tell him about his dad and possibly compromise his father’s cover.

“Why baking?” Jack asks, suddenly. Mac looks up at the other man and shivers under that intense gaze.

“I’m…what?”

Jack smiles patiently. “You bake but that doesn’t seem like a typical hobby for a soldier turned think tank nerd. So, if you feel you can tell me – why baking?”

Mac swallows heavily. That’s a question with answers possibly even more painful, but he finds himself willing to share it anyway.

“My mom. She…she died when I was young. After I quit my job at the think tank, I found the book where she kept her recipes in an old trunk and…she loved baking.” He looks up at the menu board wistfully. “Most of those she wrote herself after a lot of testing.”

Jack chuckles and the sound sends shivers down Mac’s spine.

“I’m guessing you got to test a lot of what she made?”

Mac nods. “It’s where I discovered I love poppy seed.”

Jack glances at the board. “Well, I wasn’t gonna say nothin’, but…”

Mac rolls his eyes. “Oh please. You’re not the first one to notice that today.” He smiles at Jack and realises that, somehow, he’s managed to step close enough to the counter that he can almost feel the other man’s breath on his face. Jack’s hand is resting on the polished wood, only inches away from his, and Mac wants nothing more than to let his fingers trail over that skin and feel the texture for himself.

“When I was a kid, my ma used to make pie for dinner every Sunday,” Jack begins, a little hesitantly. “She put it on the window sill in the kitchen before we sat down to dinner, and I _knew_ I’d get into trouble if I so much as touched it before dessert, but I could never quite stop myself from trying.”

“Did she catch you?” Mac asks, still staring at Jack’s fingers next to his. There’s a tension in the air that he’s very much like to pretend he doesn’t notice, but Jack doesn’t seem to be fooled by his very much faked nonchalance. It’s like he can look past every wall Mac’s ever managed to put up and see who he really is right down to his bones.

It’s a heady feeling, as exhilarating as it is terrifying.

“Course she did. Every time, like clockwork. ‘Cept one day, I was late helping to clean the stables and came into the house just in time for dinner. Imagine my surprise when I still got an earful for stealing a piece. I tried to tell her that it couldn’t possibly have been me, but she wouldn’t hear it.” He shrugs. “Guess by then it had been me way too often, so she wouldn’t believe me.”

“Did you ever figure out who did it?” Mac asks.

Jack snorts. “Yeah, sure did. Becca, my little sister, came crying to me later that night. She heard our ma and felt guilty that I took the blame for her crime. ‘Course, little shit that she was, Becca didn’t actually confess to _her_.” 

“You love your sister very much, don’t you?” Mac asks, knowingly, and Jack nods with the long-suffering expression of older siblings everywhere. Not that Mac has any younger siblings himself, but he’s been a spectator to the Bozer family drama way too often not to recognize how that story would end.

Jack smiles at him, and suddenly their closeness, combined with the exhaustion from having been up on his feet almost all day, begins to feel a little suffocating to Mac. He’s never done well with this kind of uncertainty. Bozer tells him he has no game, and while he likes to protest that statement, the truth is, Mac knows himself, and knows that he could very easily be misinterpreting this entire evening. He’s never done well as the aggressor in a relationship, Nikki had to basically throw herself at him, naked, to get him to realize that his crush wasn’t as one-sided as he’d thought. And look at how well that turned out in the end.

He’s always been a little…oblivious.

Mac tells himself he imagines the disappointed look in Jack’s eyes when he steps away from the counter. If the man is really interested in him, he’ll come back right?

“I’m afraid I have to close up soon,” Mac says, and his voice cuts through the tension in the room like a rusty knife. “My friend is making dinner and he gets cranky when I’m late. Will I see you around again?” He asks, trying not to sound too hopeful.

Jack quirks an eyebrow. “Yeah, count on it.” He throws another look at the menu board. “There’s a lot up there I haven’t tasted yet and if it’s even half as good as the tart…”

Mac flushes and looks down at the floor.

“Hey,” Jack’s voice is a pleasant rumble in the almost empty shop, and _why_ didn’t Mac know that he had a thing for Texan accents until know?

The smile is back on the other man’s face. “The company isn’t bad either,” he says and puts down a handful of bills next to his empty coffee cup. “See you around, kid.” He tips an imaginary hat at Mac and _saunters_ out of the door.

Mac’s face is probably red enough to qualify as burning by now.

…

Jack spends half an hour after arriving at his apartment building sitting in the Shelby, head resting on the wheel, cursing himself for the idiot that he is.

What the hell had he been _thinking_?

He hadn’t been thinking, that’s the entire fucking problem right there. He’s supposed to be a goddamn professional, but the time he’s just spent in that strangely named coffee shop was so far from being professional, Jack wouldn’t know how to find the way back if someone handed him a map.

He’d planned to go into the coffee shop, talk to the kid, and maybe, if he was very lucky, persuade him to come back to the Foundation for one last job, case closed. Instead he’d been completely knocked over by how pretty Angus MacGyver was in real life and, as a reaction, had fallen right back into the mindset he’d used on the odd honeypot he’d done for the CIA back in the day, had flirted and teased and drawn the kid into a complicated web of emotion that Jack knows from experience is almost impossible to escape from, and the guilt about that sits heavy in his gut now, almost making him wish he hadn’t eaten that delicious tart because his stomach wants to chuck it right back up. 

It had been so goddamn _easy_ , he almost can’t believe that the kid ever worked as an operative in the first place, but then again, Jack had always been very, very good at his job.

And right now, he wants nothing more than to go back and do it all over again. To get a first glimpse of that flabbergasted expression, to watch Mac blush so prettily when Jack does something that has him flustered, to hear that surprisingly dark voice tell him things that Mac probably hasn’t told anyone in a very long time.

If this were an op for the CIA, Jack would go back to his handler and report himself as being compromised. He’d told the kid about his family, for god’s sake. Jack hasn’t stumbled this badly since he’d been recruited, fresh from his additional training at “The Farm”. This was supposed to be a simple mission. Go in, convince the kid to help, and be done with it, but somehow Jack blurred every line there was, and the worst thing is…the worst thing is…

He’s not sure that tomorrow, when he inevitably has to go back and try again, he isn’t going to do the exact same thing all over again.

…

“Hey man. Earth to Mac. You okay there buddy?” Mac looks up from where he’s been idly rearranging the mashed potatoes on his plate and grins sheepishly.

“Sorry Boze. Just…tired I guess,” Mac says. Bozer raises an eyebrow.

“Yeah, right. And tomorrow I’m gonna get an offer by Disney to direct the new Star Wars movie. Come on, Mac. I know that look on your face. You’re trying to figure out something important, but you’re not sure how to go about that.”

Mac puts down his fork and leans back in his chair. Bozer is right, of course, but he isn’t sure if he’s ready to talk about the encounter he had after his friend went home yet – isn’t sure if he’s ready to talk about _Jack_ yet.

Still, if not Bozer…

“I met a guy today,” Mac says and watches, amused, as Bozer’s eyebrows try to climb into his hairline. He knows it isn’t the _guy_ part that stumped his friend, Bozer knew that Mac was bisexual before Mac knew it himself actually, but it’s the fact that Mac hasn’t even looked at anyone since Nikki. 

Not to mention the fact that he still thinks Nikki died in a car accident years ago, and Mac doesn’t even want to think about the mess if he ever found out the truth.

“You did? I mean – you go Mac. It’s about time, man.” Bozer grins at him and Mac finds himself grinning back. He’s still not sure he hasn’t imagined meeting Jack, that the whole thing wasn’t some kind of exhaustion-induced hallucination because gorgeous guys like that don’t just walk into Mac’s shop and flirt with him until he’s too flustered to form coherent sentences, but right now, sitting next to his best friend, after a delicious meal, and looking over the skyline of LA, a deep burnished red in the light of the setting sun…

The imaginary Jack in his head grins that crooked grin, warm brown eyes laughing, and Mac finds himself very much looking forward to seeing him again.


	2. tuesday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which things get even more complicated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Schools are closed, university is closed, so no teaching and no studying either. Do you remember when we were all glad that 2019 was over? Those were the days my friends. I hope you're all safe at home (those who can) and keeping your spirits up. I'm using this time to catch up on stuff that I've wanted to catch up on for months (like writing) since this is the first time since last summer that I have no pressing deadlines looming in the near future. Weird feeling that.
> 
> This story has sprouted a bit of plot which is really just an excuse to have Mac and Jack bicker themselves into a relationship. Also some Desi/Riley which I hope you like as much as I do.
> 
> On a positive note, I've started three separate macdalton oneshots since last Friday, so lets see how much I get done during the next few weeks.

“I’m an idiot,” Jack says, head resting on the table next to his favourite rifle, which is currently in several pieces waiting to be cleaned. Desi snorts, clearly the woman has no sympathy for his situation, and he chances a glance at her face.

“I used to be good at this, Des. Like…really, really good.” And the thing is – it’s even true. Jack never liked the ops where he had to use his charm to reel in an asset, always made him feel sleazy as hell and in need of a shower, but he’d been good at it.

Desi raises an eyebrow. “So you’ve told me half a dozen times already, Jack. Maybe you’re just out of practice?”

Jack sits up straight again and shakes his head, taking in the sight of the dismantled rifle with a sigh. Doing this normally calms him down, grounds his head in something real, something he can touch, but ever since he left the coffee shop, he hasn’t been able to concentrate on anything except the memory of the kid’s smile and those blue, blue eyes widening with what Jack is now pretty sure had been some definite interest.

Desi cocks her head and looks at him thoughtfully. “Or maybe you just picked the worst moment ever to develop a serious crush on the guy. I mean, he is kind of pretty.”

“Not funny, Des. Matty is going to have my head on a platter once she finds out how I fucked this up.”

“Is it really that bad? I mean – have you thought about the fact that maybe something good might come out of this?” Desi asks.

Jack frowns. “What good is going to come out of me flirting with a potential asset who I’ve been ordered to get to agree to work with us? I’m lucky if I don’t get shot before the end of this op.”

Desi shrugs. “True, but you could also just tell him and beg for forgiveness. Might save you from bodily harm.” 

Jack groans and drops his head again, fighting the urge to scream in frustration.

He’s so fucked.

…

Mac absolutely isn’t looking at the door every five minutes because he wants Jack to come back – he isn’t, no matter what Bozer says. It’s only been a day, not even that, because Jack had come in late and it’s only late afternoon right now. Mac spent a very uncomfortable night dreaming of warm brow eyes and calloused hands, waking up tired and aroused, and getting himself off had only left him restless and even more frustrated. 

He glares at the sourdough he’s been abusing for longer than necessary and throws another surreptitious glance through the door into the front of the shop, not that there’s anyone in the kitchen who could call him out on his behaviour right now, trying to see if Jack has entered during the last five minutes.

There’s no Jack, but there’s a Bozer-shaped figure obstructing his view, grinning like the proverbial cat that got the cream.

“You really gotta see this, Mac. Come on,” Bozer says and grabs his arm, not caring about the flour clinging to Mac like a particular affectionate barnacle.

“Do you see what I’m seeing right now?” He shoves Mac through the door, trying, and failing to be unobtrusive. Riley is at the register with a female customer and Mac watches in fascination as she blushes at something the other woman says.

Bozer grins. “I have never seen her do that, have you?” Mac hasn’t, but that doesn’t mean he can’t have a little fun with his best friend.

“What? Talk to a customer?” Bozer rolls his eyes.

“You know exactly what I mean. Come on, man. Miss “I will hurt you if you look at me wrong” is giggling like a teenager right now.”

“Riley is always professional, Boze.”

“Riley is _flirting_ right now.”

And yeah – Bozer’s right. Mac has never actually seen Riley flirt with anyone. When she first started working for him, Riley used to express her affection by not glaring at them too hard, and seeing her so relaxed with a customer is strange if somewhat adorable. Also, Mac has to admit that the other woman is gorgeous. He never thought he’d find tattoos particularly attractive, but damn she pulls it off.

He’s also pretty sure the woman noticed him and Bozer as soon as they stumbled through the door. Maybe it’s the fact that Mac used to spend his days surrounded by dangerous people, but there’s just something about her that reminds him of his old partner, Sam, who went back to Australia after he quit the DXS. He’ll have to talk to her soon. Sam was always adept at helping Mac untangle the emotional stuff in his life. He’s pretty sure that without her Nicki would have reeled him back in pretty easily. Maybe she can make some sense of the mess that’s in his head right now.

“Hey Mac,” Riley says, waving him over. “You mind if I skip out a little earlier today?” She asks with a glance at the customer. “I mean, it’s pretty empty anyway and I’ll stay longer tomorrow?” She looks at him pleadingly, and Mac reflects that this must be what having a younger sister feels like because he can never really say no to her. Besides, Riley and Bozer are by far his most dedicated employees and, judging by how often Riley stays over at their place, she’s become family long ago.

Mac grins and nods. “Sure, no problem. Call me if you need anything?” He says.

Riley rolls her eyes. “I’m a big girl. I’m pretty sure I can handle drinks with Desi here on my own.”

She doesn’t notice, but Mac sees their customer flinch almost imperceptibly at the way Riley just hands out her name to Mac and Bozer who is still grinning in the background. It’s not an unusual reaction in and of itself, some people are just a little more private, but Mac has spent a lot of time doing a job that fosters a certain kind of paranoia like no other, so he’ll definitely check in on Riley at some point during her date, no matter how much she’s going to complain about it tomorrow.

Riley and her date leave, and Mac spends the rest of the day baking with the kind of driven focus that used to be reserved for dismantling IEDs and toppling dictators. It has absolutely nothing to do with the memory of warm brown eyes and a crooked smile, is what he tells himself until Bozer comes into the kitchen half an hour before closing time and tells him there’s a customer asking for him by name.

“I-“, Mac begins. He’s only been waiting for this the entire day, but now that Jack is possibly standing next to the cake display, perusing the menu board with a smile, he’s frozen to the spot, fighting the urge to run in the other direction. Bozer doesn’t let him back out though, and shoves him through the door for the second time that day, snickering at Mac’s annoyed expression.

“Dammit, Boze. I can walk on my own.”

“You sure?” Bozer raises an eyebrow. “Didn’t look like it a minute ago.” He turns to the register where Jack is indeed watching them with a bemused expression. “Hey man. I’m Bozer – this idiot’s best friend. Nice to meet you. I’m gonna go and…rearrange the stuff for tomorrow now. You two have fun.” He removes his apron and saunters back into the kitchen, but not before giving Mac a very obvious thumbs up.

Mac barely resists the urge to groan in embarrassment. He looks at Jack who chuckles at the expression on his face and leans forward, resting his arms on the counter between them.

The sleeves of his shirt are rolled up, and if someone had told Mac two days ago that he’d blush at the sight of someone’s exposed forearms, imagining what those broad, callused hands would feel like on his skin…yeah, he’d have laughed at them.

“Sooo, you got anything with a lot of chocolate in it?” Jack asks, bringing Mac back to the here and now. He swallows, thoat dry and takes a look at the menu board because he suddenly can’t remember whether there’s anything with chocolate on there or not.

He steps closer to the counter. “There’s nothing on the board, but I have some cupcakes in the kitchen that I’ve been decorating with chocolate ganache.”

Jack raises an eyebrow. “I have no idea what that is, but if you made them I’d love to try one.”

Mac takes another step until he’s standing close enough, he could touch Jack’s hands if he wanted to, could touch Jack, and he really, really wants to. Ever since the mess with Nicki, he’s mostly stayed away from the dating scene, and he’s never felt this kind of instant connection with anyone before. Mac rarely feels like there’s something missing in his life, but right now, he wants to take a leap of faith and find out if the expression on Jack’s face means what Mac hope it means.

Jack pushes himself up from where he’s been leaning on the counter and rubs a hand through his hair, leaving the carefully styled strands a bit of a mess which Mac finds weirdly adorable.

“Look, Mac. Before this goes any further, there’s something I gotta tell you,” Jack says, looking like he wants to say more, but Mac doesn’t let him. He steps close enough to put a finger over Jack’s lips. Fingers wrap around his wrist, the contact sending shivers down his spine. Whatever he wants to tell Mac, Mac doesn’t want to hear it – not right now. He might regret his impulsive decision later on, but right now Mac is going to seize the opportunity and live in the goddamn moment.

Mac takes a deep breath. “Why don’t you come into the kitchen? Pretty sure Bozer left a while ago anyway.”

The expression on Jack’s face is conflicted, like he’s standing on the edge of a cliff, not sure whether to take the next step or not. Mac withdraws his hand, but Jack doesn’t let go of his wrist, following his movement until Mac’s hand is resting on the counter between them, fingers gently stroking the sensitive skin.

“Yeah, alright,” Jack says, voice hoarse. Mac walks backwards, forcing the other man to step around the counter in order to follow him, because Jack seems unwilling to let go of him.

They step into the kitchen, Mac stopping when his back hits the countertop where he does most of his work. He tugs at his hand, but Jack’s fingers remain wrapped around his wrist.

“Chocolate,” Mac whispers, mesmerized by Jack’s gaze.

“What?” Jack asks, voice raspy. Mac smiles slightly because he wants nothing more than to forget all about the cupcakes and continue whatever they’re doing right now, but there’s a voice whispering in his head, telling him to be careful, to take this slowly, and he’s always listened to his instincts in the field, and should probably listen to them now as well.

No matter how much he doesn’t want to.

“You wanted a cupcake.” He uses a move Sam taught him years ago and twists out of Jack’s hold. The other man steps back.

“Right…cupcake.” It would be a lie to say the next few minutes aren’t awkward, but Mac ignores the sudden tension between them and hands the other man a plate with a freshly decorated cupcake.

Jack takes a bite and moans at the taste. Mac is suddenly very, very glad he chose to wear pants that are on the looser side that morning, because he’s suddenly imagining Jack making that exact same sound while Mac’s lips are wrapped around his cock.

Yeah, he’s so far gone it’s not even funny anymore.

“I take it you like the cupcake?” Mac asks, trying not to sound as breathless as he feels. Jack grins and makes a show of licking the last few chocolatey crumbs of his fork.

“Hell yeah. I dunno what you put into this, but it’s better than any I’ve had before.” He frowns and his smile turns sheepish. “Cupcake. Any cupcake I’ve had before.” He waves his fork in Mac’s general direction. “You know what I mean.”

Mac lets out a giggle, taking a moment to be glad that Bozer isn’t there anymore, because Mac doesn’t _giggle_ , or at least he didn’t used to, but Jack seems to have become the exception to a lot of Mac’s rules.

“Yeah, Jack. I do know what you mean.” Mac steps closer until he can take the fork from the other man’s hand. Jack tenses at the proximity, but his gaze sharpens until Mac feels like he’s a butterfly pinned under those eyes. Jack’s hands raise up and come to rest on Mac’s hips and he places a hand over the thin cloth of Jack’s shirt, right over his heart, beating frantically in his chest.

Seems Mac isn’t the only one affected.

“Mac-“ Jack says, but Mac shushes him.

“I want you to kiss me,” Mac says, the fingers of his other hand coming up to lightly trace the outline of Jack’s lips. “Please?”

It seems that even Jack can only resist him for so long, because he surrenders, taking Mac’s lips with a groan. Soft lips pry open Mac’s own, and Jack walks him backwards until he’s pressed against the wall next to the oven which is thankfully switched off right now. A well-muscled thigh presses between his own, arms coming up to cage him against the tiles until he’s helpless against Jack’s onslaught.

Not that he minds that in the slightest.

Mac wraps his arms around Jack until he can tug at his shirt, fingers itching to get to the skin beneath the waistband of Jack’s pants. Jack suddenly lifts him up, and Mac has a hard time not to lose it at that display of strength, turning them around until he can put Mac onto the countertop where he’d been kneading sourdough just a few hours earlier. Something clatters to the ground, swept aside by Jack, but Mac doesn’t care, too busy mouthing at the skin of Jack’s neck to care about anything right then.

Later he’ll reflect how lucky he was that no customer chose to come in while he was busy doing…other things, but right then the only thing that counts is Jack pressing him down, Jack’s mouth on his throat, and Jack’s hands on his skin.

“Fuck Jack, _please_!” 

…

It’s the sound of Mac’s voice, desperate with arousal that brings him back to reality with an unpleasant jolt. Jack stills his hands, allows himself one last kiss against the birthmark at the hinge of Mac’s jaw, and draws back until he can look into the kid’s eyes. He cups Mac’s cheek with his hand and smiles ruefully.

“You have any idea what you do to me?”

Mac frowns. “Jack?”

Letting go of Mac is a lot harder than it should be, but Jack steps back until Mac can sit up and slip off the countertop where Jack had so unceremoniously dropped him earlier.

Jack wants nothing more than to erase that frown from Mac’s face, wants to step back into those arms and make the kid forget everything but his name, but there’s a big honking elephant in the room, and Jack has the feeling that Mac won’t be so eager anymore once he finds out the truth.

He’s never been this afraid of telling someone the truth before and it would be funny if it wasn’t so pathetic. Jack prides himself on being a man of action. He’s always been the one others turn to for making the hard decisions, but the thought of telling Mac the truth fills him with trepidation. He allows himself a last glance at Mac’s eyes, filled with confusion and the remnants of arousal, imagines what those eyes would look like, pupils blown wide, while Jack buries himself in that beautiful, tight body, but that’s a vision that is unlikely to ever come to pass now.

Jack only has himself to blame. 

“Look, Mac – there’s something you need to know. I can’t-“ Jack is interrupted by the sound of his ringtone. He looks at the screen. It’s Desi.

…

_Downtown – Thirty minutes earlier…_

Desi would like to say that she’s fully in control of this situation, and that every step she took since walking into the coffee shop earlier has been planned out meticulously, but that would be a lie.

She’s pretty sure she lost control somewhere around the time Riley smiled at her and asked what she could do for Desi. Riley, with her beautiful, brown eyes and that heart-stopping smile. She probably, definitely should have stayed out of this entire mess, but Desi really wanted to meet the guy who could trip up the legendary Jack Dalton this badly, wanted to find out if she needed to do damage control before Jack got in too deep, but instead she ended up tripping herself, right into the path of Riley Davis.

“Hey, you okay?” Riley asks. They’ve spent a very enjoyable evening at a little hole-in-the-wall Italian restaurant that had the best Marsala Desi’s ever tasted outside of Italy, and they’re both more than a little tipsy.

Desi grins and tucks a strand of hair behind Riley’s ear. “Yeah. I’m good. You know – we probably shouldn’t drive back,” she says, because they took her car, but neither of them is still sober enough to drive anywhere right now.

Riley leans into Desi’s fingers which are busy idly tracing the shell of her ear. “You’re right. I could call Mac to give us a ride.” She ducks her head, a very enticing blush spreading over her skin. “Do you want to come back to mine?”

Desi swallows and brings up her other hand, framing Riley’s face.

“I really, really want to, but-“

“But?”

“There’s something I have to tell you first,” Desi says, not looking forward to Riley’s reaction once she confesses at least part of the reason why she came to the coffee shop in the first place. There’s a lot she can’t tell Riley of course, they’re _covert_ ops for a reason, but everyone who’s been in this business as long as she has, has a lot of experience at telling different versions of the same truth. Desi wants to see Riley again, wants to see where this is going, and if that means telling her as much as she can without giving away sensitive information…

Desi can definitely do that. 

“Okay?” Riley cocks her head and looks at her questioningly. That’s the moment Desi notices movement from the corner of her eye. A dark grey van drawing closer makes a sharp left turn and comes to a screeching halt next to them. Before her mind has even fully processed what’s happening, Desi has grabbed Riley and turned them around to get her out of the direct line of the men pouring out of the van, dressed in tactical gear and armed to the teeth.

“Desi!” Riley yells, but Desi is already busy punching the first guy in the face. She grabs an arm coming towards her throat and turns around, using the momentum to pull the guy who just tried to punch her in front of her and Riley to use him as a shield against the bullets raining down on them. Discarding the now dead guy, she grabs the gun strapped to his chest on his way down, and takes out two of the attackers in rapid succession.

She’s too late. While Desi was busy fighting, someone grabbed Riley and pulled her into the van. She shoots at the van’s tires, but misses, forced to watch helplessly while it vanishes around a corner.

Riley’s gone.

…

Jack is still staring at his phone, trying to process the fact that Desi apparently took out one of Mac’s employees on a date, and that said employee then managed to get kidnapped, when Mac gently places a hand on his arm.

“Jack? Is everything alright?” Mac asks hesitantly, and Jack just can’t make his voice work right now, but he knows that he has to, because things just got a hell of a lot more complicated.

“I-,” Jack begins, taking a deep breath. “I work for a covert agency here in LA. Two days ago my boss asked me to make contact with you because,” he swallows heavily, doesn’t look at Mac directly for fear of what he’s sure is on the other man’s face right now. “Because there’s a contact in Russia with some important information who insists on only giving that information to you.”

Jack looks up and has to fight the urge to vomit at the look of betrayal in Mac’s eyes.

“I see.”

Jack shakes his head. “No you don’t. Mac – _please_. You gotta believe me when I tell you that none of this was planned. I was never supposed to…” He takes a step forward, and flinches when Mac steps back.

“I’m not sure I believe anything you say right now, Jack. If that’s even your name.” He rubs a hand over his face. “ _God_ – how could I have been so stupid?”

“You’re not stupid. You’re brilliant and beautiful and I really should have stayed away. I’m so sorry I messed this up, Mac.”

Mac smiles, it’s an ugly thing, full of resentment, and it belongs nowhere near Mac’s face. “Why are you telling me now, Jack? What was that phone call about?”

“Mac-“ but the kid shakes his head.

“No. I can’t talk about this right now. Tell me what that phone call was about!” Mac demands and so Jack does, watching his face blanch as Mac realizes the seriousness of the situation.

“Shit. Where is your colleague now? I’m coming with you. You’re not going to look for Riley without me.”

Something clicks in Jack’s brain then and his thoughts come to a screeching halt. It’s not like Riley is a particularly unusual name these days, but…

He’d thought there was something familiar about the handwriting on today’s menu board.

“Mac – what’s Riley’s last name?” Jack asks, desperately wishing that he’s wrong – that the Riley working for Mac is not the Riley he’d left behind all those years ago. The Riley he still secretly thinks of as a daughter, even if she very likely hates him now after the way he left things with her and her mom.

“Why is that – it’s Davis, but what’s that got to do with anything?”

Jack closes his eyes. He had a feeling that would be Mac’s answer.

…

Mac glances at Jack who is focused on getting them through LA traffic as quickly as possible without crashing. Jack’s face is expressionless, the face of a soldier, a spy who is entirely focused on achieving his objective.

Mac feels so _stupid_ – and worse – humiliated. He wants to go back to yesterday, to tell himself to be cautious, to stop trusting that heart stopping smile and to stop losing himself in that whiskey-brown gaze. Mac knows, intellectually, that Jack was probably trained for this. He’d never had to do a honeypot himself. The DXS had prided himself on employing methods that were a little more…honest than that, but that doesn’t mean he can’t recognize the skill with which Jack had approached him yesterday, the casual flirting, the story that, in retrospect, was probably fake as well.

Jack had skilfully cast the bait and Mac had fallen for it hook, line, and sinker. He still doesn’t know if that’s his real name – isn’t sure if he even wants to know the answer.

And the worst thing is – the worst thing is, Mac can still taste Jack in the back of his throat, can still feel Jack’s fingers pressing into his skin. He still feels the urge to let Jack spread him out on any available surface and do to Mac whatever he wants to do.

But there’s more important things to think about now because Riley managed to get herself kidnapped, and doesn’t that just take the cake right now. With all the former/current secret agents running around, it’s the hacker turned barista who gets taken. And to top the whole thing off, Jack apparently used to date Riley’s mother.

Mac has met Diane. Beautiful and vivacious Diane with her blonde curls and wicked humour, her lovely smile. He’s had a bit of a crush on the woman himself after meeting her, and Mac isn’t sure what Jack would want with him if there’s someone like that around. He certainly can’t hold a candle to Diane.

Jack draws into the parking lot of a fancy office building that’s nowhere near the place the DXS used to be. The woman who took Riley out on that date, Desi, he reminds himself, is waiting for them in the lobby of the building.

“Hey. Mac right? I’m Desi and I’m sorry I couldn’t protect her. I-“ Mac has the feeling that this woman doesn’t often find herself out of her depth like this, and while he wants to be angry at her for essentially deceiving Riley, he isn’t actually sure that she meant to deceive the other woman. As far as Mac can see, there was no tactical advantage to taking Riley out on a date and, depending on whether or not Riley’s abduction has anything to do with the Phoenix Foundation or Mac’s own past, the fact that Desi had been with her when it happened means that they now have a point to start from.

“It’s alright.” Mac smiles at her. “I mean – it’s really not, but from what Jack tells me there were about a dozen guys, so I’m pretty sure there’s nothing more you could have done.”

Desi smiles back and nods ruefully. “Yeah, I know you’re right, but…let’s focus on getting her back?”

“Good idea,” Jack interrupts and grabs both of their shoulders, steering them towards the elevator. Desi seems used to this, letting Jack manhandle her without complaint, and Mac follows her lead, ignoring the warmth spreading out from where Jack’s fingers dig into his skin.

…

Jack has the serious urge to vibrate out of his skin, standing between Mac and Desi in the elevator, but years of training and experience keep him perfectly still, the focus of a sniper honing in on his target. Desi is fidgeting next to him. Jack still hasn’t wrapped his head around the fact that his little Riley girl had apparently been out on a date with Desiree Nguyen of all people, but then again, he hasn’t seen Riley in years and she’s not so little anymore.

Mac is quiet next to him, has been quiet since Jack dragged him out of the coffee shop and into his car, and he would give anything to be able to read the kid’s thoughts right now.

The expression of betrayal on Mac’s face when Jack had told him the truth earlier is still sitting heavy in his throat, but it was the humiliation in Mac’s eyes when he realized what Jack had done that makes him want to wrap his arms around Mac and promise that no one is ever going to hurt him again.

 _Goddammit_ , Jack has known Mac for two freakin’ days. Is this how the princesses in those Disney movies his nephew likes to watch feel after meeting the guy they inevitably end up with at the end of a movie?

Jack would really like an answer to that question.

He leads Mac and Desi towards the War Room and notices that the kid seems to know the way already, no hesitation in his steps. Apparently, just because they changed location after the DXS crashed and burned, doesn’t mean they also changed the layout of the building.

Spies are weird, is what he’s thinking.

Matty and Oversight are waiting for them. He steps into the room, turning around, and frowns at the wide-eyed expression on Mac’s face.

“Mac?”

But Mac is shaking his head. He takes a few steps, walking past Jack and Desi, and comes to a halt in the middle of the room, hands clenching at his sides, staring at Jack’s boss. His next words freeze the blood in Jack’s veins.

_“Dad?”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I haven't even brought Leanna into this mess yet...


End file.
